


cried like a river (life ain't all glitter)

by stupidbadgers



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Comfort, I hope, M/M, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Self-Worth Issues, i make it better, it's what he deserves, mizuki is a bastard, someone please punch him, this is sad but like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidbadgers/pseuds/stupidbadgers
Summary: He wished he had never met Kakashi, never gone on that mission, never fell in love with the bastard because it was him that caused all this pain and misery and self-loathing. It was Kakashi that made Iruka realize he wasn’t fit to be an active duty shinobi.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 18
Kudos: 107





	cried like a river (life ain't all glitter)

**Author's Note:**

> this is self-indulgent, but to be fair, all of my works are. inspired by a song (music fuels my writing, what can i say?). 
> 
> i wrote this in a bit of a different style than i usually do, but it was a lot of fun.
> 
> i hope you enjoy~~

Iruka didn’t see Kakashi around the village much, for which he was grateful. 

Maybe. 

Possibly. 

He wasn’t sure anymore. 

Sure, he had been blindsided by love in a moment when he didn’t think love could really happen leaving him feeling overexposed. And sure, he hated that it felt cliché, like he had been a damsel in distress waiting to be saved by a silver-headed knight in shining armor. 

It had been over a year since that wretched mission where he fucked up and nearly got them both killed. Iruka had a bleeding heart and he knew it. That was why he had gone to the Third, why he had taken full responsibility for the injuries and the screw up. It was, after all, his fault. He didn’t need to be told that. 

When he explained to Mizuki and Kotetsu and Izumo what had happened, the parts he could share anyway, a few days after the mission, Mizuki had sneered, but kept his mouth shut (Iz and Ko supported Iruka and bought him another drink because there was really nothing else they could do). That is, until it was just Iruka and Mizuki, later that night in Iruka’s apartment (because they never went back to Mizuki’s), lying next to each other in those precious moments (for Iruka) before Mizuki would leave the bed and walk out the door and not talk to Iruka again until he wanted something from Iruka (probably sex). 

Mizuki, just before swinging his legs off the bed, spoke bluntly, “you’re too soft for a shinobi. One day it’s going to get you and your teammates killed. I hope I don’t get sent on a mission with you.” 

And Iruka laid there, the air knocked from his lungs like a punch to the gut, while Mizuki grabbed his clothes and left. Iruka didn’t move for what felt like hours, the tears flowing from his eyes proving Mizuki’s point. 

Those thoughts echoed in Iruka’s mind, building on each other, tearing at him each moment he let himself be unoccupied by anything. Even when he was occupied, they snuck in. They left him feeling like he wasn’t good enough, like he didn’t deserve to call himself a shinobi, like he had too. much. heart. 

(It didn’t matter that he was quickly becoming one of the most beloved sensei of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, that he had the Will of Fire burning through his veins, and that he was instilling that in every child he taught. It didn’t matter that while he was the Terror of the Mission Desk, he had whipped things in to shape faster than anyone else had, that he was the reason the files and archives and reports were the best they had ever been. It didn’t matter that he had the ear of the Third Hokage. It didn’t matter that he had skills with fuuinjutsu that hadn’t been seen since the Fourth Hokage.) 

Iruka channeled his feelings of not good enough into anger, a small burning ball of anger that he kept carefully sealed away. 

Because it was just over a year later and those thoughts had taken their toll on him. They left him feeling ragged. 

He wished he had never met Kakashi, never gone on that mission, never fell in love with the bastard because it was him that caused all this pain and misery and self-loathing. It was Kakashi that made Iruka realize he wasn’t fit to be an active duty shinobi. 

So the anger raged next to the love (he never could shake the love off, no matter how much he tried, it stuck to him, consumed him) because it was just as easy to have that burning rage as it was to have that burning love. They were opposites sides of the same coin, weren’t they? Where one existed, so could the other just as easily. At times, Iruka mistook one for the other. 

But he didn’t at this moment. 

No, at this moment, sitting in this bar with Izumo and Kotetsu (Mizuki was off somewhere, probably trying to find someone to sleep with him because Iruka was “no fun anymore since you got all sad”), Iruka found that burning ball of anger. And its target was across the bar, looking to all the world bored and uninterested (though, if Iruka hadn’t been seven beers and three shots in, he _may_ have picked up the way the grey eye darted around periodically checking its surroundings and landing on Iruka more than what was considered polite; he may have even noticed the tension in the shoulders that countered the carefully constructed slouch). 

And so, for the first time in just over a year, (at least outside the mission room where only brief words were spoken like “welcome back” or “thank you for your service”), Iruka spoke to Hatake Kakashi. 

Well, he tried to speak. 

(Eight beers and five shots.) 

Iruka stalked (mostly) over to the table where the jounin sat (along with several other jounin that if Iruka had been more sober he would have recognized as Gai, Genma, Asuma, Raidou, and another, but even sober he wouldn’t have recognized him—ANBU are like that—but they didn’t matter). 

“I have a bone to pick with you, Hatake Kakashi,” Iruka stated loudly (mostly without slurring). 

Kakashi, who had carefully controlled his reaction to the drunk sensei on a warpath in his direction, simply blinked at Iruka (it was most definitely a blink this time, Iruka was sure of it, even though it was difficult to tell with just the one eye visible). 

(If Iruka had been sober, he would have noticed that most of the eyes in the bar had turned to him as soon as they heard the voice of the Terror of the Mission Desk, and that the conversations around him had ceased. But he was not sober. Very not sober.) 

“Just so you know, I may just be a chuunin-sensei, but I am a damn capable shinobi. And sure, sometimes I care too much and I make mistakes, but you’re not so perfect either. I don’t care if they call you a genius, I think you’re stupid. You’re stupid for not seeing the potential of other people around you because you’re so wrapped up in yourself.” 

The only acknowledgement that Iruka got of his words was the slight widening of that grey eye (the one that held more emotion than Kakashi wanted to let through, but was often missed by most people; Iruka had spent a lot of time thinking about it and watching it when he saw Kakashi and if he had been sober, might have recognized the surprise and dare he say hurt that flickered through it). 

Iruka stalked (it was more of a stagger at this point) out of the bar, where a cacophony of noise started as soon as the door shut. Glances were surreptitiously thrown in Kakashi’s direction. He maintained the position he had before the chuunin-sensei verbally attacked him, despite his friends asking him what the hell had just happened (he wish he knew). 

Several days later, as Iruka sat on a bench under a very nice tree that provided some shade in the late evening sun, he considered the mess he had made. His outburst had been the talk of the village. Even the Hokage had asked him about it at their weekly meeting of tea and shogi. 

There was more to consider though. 

Naruto. 

The boy was... complicated. 

He couldn’t understand why the Third had thought it wise to place Iruka has his sensei. It felt like a punishment. 

Perhaps it was. 

After all, Iruka wasn’t worth much; most days he didn’t even consider himself worthy of being a shinobi. 

“Is that seat taken, sensei?” 

Iruka’s head snapped up from where he had been looking at the ground. He hadn’t even sensed someone approaching, but he knew that voice. It haunted his dreams. 

His face bloomed with color as he scooted to one side, allowing room for Kakashi to sit. 

“Listen, um,” Iruka said, unsure, “about the other night at the bar—” 

He stopped speaking when he looked into Kakashi’s face. The single-eyed gaze was boring into his soul. 

“Hm?” 

“I shouldn’t have... that is... it was wrong of me...” 

Being this close, Iruka could see Kakashi’s jaw and cheeks shifting. He realized the man was smiling at him. 

“Sensei, are you trying to apologize for verbally assaulting me in front of our peers?” 

Now the asshole was teasing him. Color struck Iruka’s face again. The anger bloomed like a flower reaching for the sun. 

Iruka’s chest puffed as his voice started to rise, “I know I spoke out of turn and I was wrong to have conducted myself in such a manner—” 

Kakashi interrupted, holding a hand up, before Iruka could gather more steam, “relax, Iruka-sensei. I’m just curious as to what I said that brought all this on.” 

Iruka sat there, perplexed. What had Kakashi done to bring this on? He was quiet for a moment as he thought it over. 

“You saved me on our mission,” Iruka said quietly, ducking his head. 

Kakashi raised his eyebrow. 

(Iruka was near certain that Kakashi didn’t even remember the mission, he had probably gone on at least a hundred since then.) 

“I didn’t know that was so terrible, saving a comrade from death.” 

Iruka mumbled his response. 

“I didn’t catch that.” 

Iruka’s voice lacked the strength he wanted it to have when he spoke again. 

“You saved me on our mission and my dumb heart fell in love with you.” 

There. He had said it. He had finally acknowledged it out loud. 

Now Kakashi could laugh at him, tell all his friends, they could laugh too, at the poor, naïve chuunin-sensei with the too big heart that couldn’t handle the active shinobi lifestyle. 

Iruka waited for the laughter, but it was painstakingly quiet. 

He risked a glance at Kakashi. 

(Now sober) Iruka could see the emotion swirling in the unfathomable depths of that solitary grey eye. It spoke of pain and sorrow (though Iruka couldn’t figure out why), as well as something else Iruka couldn’t place. There was a pink tinge to the barely visible cheek under the eye and his ear. 

“I...” Kakashi started to say. “I think I’m still confused though, sensei. What makes you think that I would look down upon you?” 

“I’m just a chuunin. An Academy instructor at that. I couldn’t handle the active shinobi lifestyle because of my bleeding heart.” 

Kakashi suddenly sat forward, grasping Iruka’s hands faster than Iruka could react. 

“In the time I’ve known you, have observed you,” (Iruka’s eyebrows shot up at that) “you have never been _just_ anything.” 

“Observed?” 

“I find you fascinating.” 

“Fascinating? I’m not a science experiment.” 

“No, you’re someone who cares so deeply and knows yourself enough to find a path that was right for you, even if it was not what you were expecting or wanting at the time. You’re an excellent teacher.” 

Iruka looked at his hands, still held tightly between Kakashi’s, “I’m not so sure about that.” 

“What would even make you think that?” 

“The Third put Uzumaki Naruto in my class.” 

“And?” 

Iruka sighed, “And how am I supposed to teach the thing that killed my parents?” 

Kakashi’s thumbs rubbed against the backs of Iruka’s hands, the warmth of Kakashi’s gloved hands seeping into his skin. 

“Because Naruto is just a boy who lost his parents too. It wasn’t his choice to be the vessel of the Tailed-Beast. Nor was it his choice to be ostracized by the village for it. He’s lonely and scared.” 

( _Just like I was,_ Iruka thought. _Just like I am_.) 

Kakashi continued speaking, “I think if anyone can show him love, it’s you. You have a lot of love to give.” 

Iruka was quiet as he pondered what Kakashi had said. Perhaps he just needed to look at the boy before him in class and not the beast that killed his parents. Could he do that? Could this bleeding heart of his be put to some good use? (Yes.) 

“Why did you sit down next to me?” Iruka asked suddenly, looking at Kakashi. 

The answer that tumbled from Kakashi was instant, surprising them both. 

“Your eyes were sad.” 

Iruka blinked, trying to find words. 

“Do you spend a lot of time looking at my eyes, Kakashi?” 

“Yes.” 

Iruka’s cheeks blushed again. Was he always going to blush around Kakashi? (Yes.) 

“They’re quite beautiful,” Kakashi said quietly. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Iruka said, trying to divert the attention. 

“I’m not.” 

“What?” 

Kakashi smiled, Iruka could see it under the mask. (When had they got so close to each other?) 

“It meant we were able to share this moment, that I could ask you a very important question.” 

Iruka’s eyebrows furrowed, “question?” 

“Mm, yes,” Kakashi replied. 

“What question?” 

Kakashi’s smile grew to a grin as his hand left Iruka’s, his finger hooking at the top of his mask, “may I kiss you?” 

Iruka realized they were mere inches apart. His eyes flicked to Kakashi’s cloth covered lips before looking back into the bottomless grey eye. 

“Yes,” he breathed. 

He still didn’t think much of himself, but as time went on and he grew closer to Kakashi and Naruto, Iruka realized that maybe this bleeding heart of his wasn’t so bad, that he was more than just a chuunin-sensei who couldn’t handle the active shinobi lifestyle. 

He also realized that the anger he had directed toward Kakashi was misplaced. Sure, the mission with Kakashi had set the events in motion, but it wasn’t Kakashi’s fault. And so he learned to handle that misplaced anger (and learned to drop dead weight that tried to hang around). He channeled his energy into more productive and positive things. 

Iruka felt better than he had in a long time and was happy (with Naruto and Kakashi by his side). 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and/or comments make me blush profusely and throw my phone. 
> 
> you can find me on [https://stupidbadgers.tumblr.com/](URL) rambling and falling down all kinds of rabbit holes. :)


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